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“That doesn’t sound good,” I remark, watching them reach for their cells.
Aria is the first to whip hers out, the first to gasp and bring the screen close enough to have her nose press against it.
“No,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “It’s not possible.”
“I don’t understand.” Adam drops on the bed hard enough to jostle me, and I swallow over my grimace, watching him tap out an erratic rhythm on the screen like it’s a keyboard. “This isn’t possible.”
Every part of me aches, and the dull pulsing throb at my side tells me any sudden movements will be a terrible idea. What choice do I have? I reach for Adam, as he’s closest, and grab the back of his shirt to get his attention. He still doesn’t tear his eyes away from the screen.
Suddenly sweaty, I push up to a seated position while Adam finishes typing out a code.
“Right now, the rest of the police are working on releasing an official statement on the downfall of Broderick Stevens, but I’ve been monitoring Aria’s code, trying to find the shortcut taken by whoever hacked into it the first time. Are you still with me?”
He’s trying to say it in as much layman's terms as possible. I nod even though he can’t see me and delicately reach for Aria, wincing when my side pulls, and pain shoots into my lower back again. Thankfully, she heads over, without a word, her attention zeroed in on her own phone. I watch her swallow hard, her throat bobbing.
“Yeah, go ahead. What’s going on?”
“There is another layer of code embedded in her underground play area that doesn’t belong to her. It was artfully inserted to look like something she put together, but it’s not hers. There's a background player there, and I’ve finally managed to break through and retrace their steps. The IP address belongs to someone in the Syndicate headquarters.” The last part is said in a whisper.
“I don’t think there’s any cause to worry. Broderick is dead,” I reply.
“It’s not Broderick,” Aria snaps. “There’s someone else because our player logged on from a different IP address, except the address is pinging from headquarters. Which is absolutely impossible.”
“Wait a minute. They just logged on?”
“Right now. And—” she breaks off, slapping a hand across her mouth.
“Aria.” Her name is a tether to me, to the situation, and I wait for the count of three until she turns to me. Her eyes are glassy, terrified. “Talk to me.”
Adam continues to mutter under his breath, furiously typing on his phone and ignoring us as he works.
“Devan…whoever it is, they just sent me a message.” Aria shakes her head, turning the phone so I can see the bold typeface clearly.
It’s not over yet. Now, you’re all going to pay.
-Broderick Stevens
“I’ve got to go to headquarters.” Aria is off the bed and across the room in a flash, leaving me scrambling to grab her and falling short. “Something is going on.”
“It’s a trap,” I argue. “You know as well as I do it’s not really Broderick Stevens.”
“Well, it’s someone with enough knowledge and power to access my programming. Hell, they’ve been running their own shit alongside mine. Which means I need to go in there at least to get my laptop.”
“They know you were involved in their boss’s death.” Blind terror flickers through me, and I struggle to move. I bite down on my lower lip to keep from crying out in pain that shoots from my hip all the way down to my toes. All that from trying to swing my legs over the side of the bed, too.
Walking is going to be a bear. An absolute fucking bear.
Aria won’t go in. I know her well enough to understand she’s too smart to walk right into an open, visible trap. And I love her too much to let her go easily.
She opens her mouth to respond, stalled only with the alert from a new incoming text.
Darkling, it’s you and it’s me. If you don’t obey your Master then your personal records will be sent to the EBPD immediately.
-Broderick Stevens
“Shit!” Aria screams, halfway tempted to throw her phone across the room. I see it on her face. “They know it’s me. And if they have my laptop, then they have my backup drives. Everything they need to completely undo what I’ve already sent to the police.”
“You were supposed to go behind and erase your files,” Adam squeaks out. He sounds strangled.
